


No One (with nowhere to run)

by Naomida



Series: Fire Meet Gasoline [14]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Argus (Warcraft), F/M, Female Friendship, Gen, illidari - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 00:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19188181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naomida/pseuds/Naomida
Summary: I owe you my life, Ilana had told her after Loramus had been separated from Razelikh.She probably didn’t know that Lidya owed her just as much — not that it was her fault. After all, how did you tell someone that if it weren’t for their strong presence by your side, you would have probably stopped fighting and let the horrors of this world take you a long time ago.





	No One (with nowhere to run)

“What are you going to do?”

Lidya blinked once, before turning her eyes away from Argus to look at Aethas. The elf was standing next to her, his eyes lost in the sky too, lower lip between his teeth, brows slightly furrowed but chin held high.

It had been an absolute surprise when he had joined the Tirisgarde, but she wasn’t sad about it at all. A former member of the Council was always a good thing to have on hand. She suspected that he had joined mostly because of Draerin who, despite not officially joining, was always hanging around and going on missions with everyone.

“What do you mean?” she asked, and he looked down at her too.

“Argus. You’re probably going, right?" she nodded and she watched as the angle of his eyebrows changed, “and then what? You arrive there and what?”

“Hopefully I help save everyone from the Legion.”

“It’s a suicide mission.”

“It might be, but it wouldn’t be the first one for me.”

“But this is different.”

“I’ve done worse,” she said with finality, because it was true and she knew it would make him stop from talking about it.

It was true, she _had_ done worse, and as a rookie too. Nothing had ever compared to killing an Old God, not the Legion, not the Lich King, not even the Shas, and it wasn’t exactly like she had a say in the matter anyway. Argus was here, the Legion too. Someone had to go over there and do something.

Too bad Lidya had so much to lose, now.

She had been back from her secret honeymoon for three weeks now, and had done her best to see Varian as much as possible — she still couldn’t quite believe that he had married _her_ — but it wasn’t enough, never would be probably, especially when they both knew she would have to leave soon to the demon infested planet in the sky.

He hadn’t said anything, and she didn’t want to bring it up, but she knew him enough, could read the worry in his eyes, could tell that he was scared for her.

If she was being honest just for a second, she was scared for her too.

Aethas sighed softly next to her and Lidya clasped his shoulder.

"It’s not like we have a choice,” she said, before turning on her heels and starting the hike back to Delivrance Point.

He followed her in silence, but she could feel his worried eyes on her back.

  


  


***

  


  


Lidya was at a Hero’s Welcome’s basement, falling asleep on the table while Draerin and Khadgar made eyes at each other and Ilana continued on her twenty minutes long monologue to Loramus and Asha in Darnassian when the Highlord thundered down the stairs, looking absolutely furious, shield in her left hand.

“You need to come,” she said, her accent thicker than usual, “right now.”

That got Lidya to immediately wake up and get on her feet.

“What’s going on?”

“Everything’s ready,” she said. “We’re leaving for Argus in three hours.”

Lidya exchanged a look with Khadgar, before she was running out with Ilana and Loramus — knowing that the Tirisgarde wasn’t anywhere near ready for that, knowing that _she_ wasn’t anywhere near being ready herself, but duty called, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  


  


***

  


  


Lidya walked into the throne room of Stormwind’s Keep two hours and fifty minutes later, heart heavy in her chest.

The room was empty except for the guards and both kings, thankfully, but Varian lost his tiny smile the second she was close enough that he could see her face.

"What’s happening?” he asked, reaching out for her, and despite knowing that here was not the best place, that now was not the best moment, she reached too and took his hands in hers, squeezing his fingers.

“It’s happening," she said, looking up into his blue eyes, straight into her whole universe, watching as he immediately understood, gaze growing darker. "I’m supposed to be at the Exodar, we’re leaving in ten minutes."

"Anduin," he replied without looking away, "please be quick with your goodbyes."

He stepped back, letting go of her hands, and Lidya exchanged a quick but tight hug with the King, who murmured in her ears for her to be safe before letting her go.

Lidya didn’t have to ask Varian what he had in mind. She grabbed his hands again and teleported them away to his chambers without waiting or hesitating.

He kissed her the second they arrived, burying his fingers in her short hair and pulling her to his chest, and she gripped his collar tightly, a sting behind her shut-tight eyes and a knot in her throat.

“Promise me you’ll come back,” he murmured between two kisses, right against her mouth, and she would have given him anything he’d asked for. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” she replied, hands trailing up to cup his face. She kissed him, again and again, until he was leaning back to look down into her eyes.

“You _have_ to come back, understood?”

She nodded. “I will.” She’d never let go of him, not now that she _finally_ had him, and it wasn’t an army of blood thirsty demons on a strange planet that was going to stop her. She had defeated Kil’jaeden and Archimonde twice now, there was nothing to be scared of.

At least it was what she tried to tell herself.

“I love you,” he said.

She smiled despite wanting to cry, pecked him on the lips. “I love you too. Don’t dance with anyone else while I’m away.”

He rolled his eyes. “I doubt Anduin will organize any ball now that his goal was attained, but just in case he does I promise.”

“Good,” she said, pecking him again, “and take care of my falcosaur.”

“I don’t promise anything, but if this thing doesn’t kill me then neither will I.”

Lidya nodded, gave him one last kiss — that Varian made last longer than she had planned when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pushed her flush against him — and stepped back, heart dropping a little when she watched his face fall.

“My high king ordered me to live through this war, and I will,” she declared.

“I believe in you,” he replied, tears swimming in his eyes, along with so many emotions that made her want to cry too, she didn’t know how she could keep looking at him without sobbing. “I know you can do this.”.

She got on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck and just hugged him for a moment, eyes closed as she breathed in his scent and memorized the feeling of his arms around her one last time.

“I’ll come back for you,” she whispered as they let go of each other, and teleported herself away after he gave her a curt nod.

  


  


***

  


  


Things were worse than anyone could have predicted, although finding allies on Argus had been a pleasant surprise – but some paladins and a bunch of sneaky Draenei didn’t help any more than the few heroes Azeroth had sent here. In just a week, they lost more people than they could have ever feared of losing, and as Lidya stood on ashy ground, Highlord Ariah laying at her feet in a puddle of blood, the weight of this entire war finally fully settled on her shoulders.

She blinked at the tears in her eyes, murmuring a quick prayer to the Light, and bent down to grab her shield. The Farseer had died that morning. The Warlord had been killed the day before. They had almost lost Khadgar at some point.

All in one week.

She wanted to offer her a real burrial, something worthy of her title, of who she had been, of what she had done, but Lidya didn’t have time. Ilana was still fighting somewhere in the distance and they both needed to go back to the Vindicaar as soon as possible to share what they had found on this recon mission, so with one last sad look, Lidya put the shield on her back, gripped Ebonhold tighter in her hand, and started walking back to where she had last seen Ilana.

It didn’t take long to find the Illidari: she was in her demonic form, high up in the sky, fighting off four demons at the same time. It was too far away for Lidya to do anything, and she had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She watched, feeling numb, as a fel bat arrived from behind Ilana to help the one already on her, watched as the demons grabbed one of her wings under Ilana’s low hiss, watched as the fel bat started flying away, pulling on her wing.

She watched, tears crawling up her throat, as the other demons started pulling Ilana too, away from the fel bat, as Ilana screamed and cried and shouted, before falling silent when a loud crack resonated and blood started falling down her back.

All the demons let her go to fall to her death, but Lidya was prepared. As soon as the elf was close enough she slowed her fall and cast an invisibility spell on them both, joining her in quick strides, heart in her throat, ready to do something harsh if anything had happened to her – she had thought that losing Varian was the worst thing that could happen to her after Léria, but she hadn’t _ever_ imagined losing Ilana.

Lidya gagged as she knelt down next to Ilana. She was back in her normal form, panting harshly, laying on her side and way too pale. Her wing had almost been pulled out – Lidya could see blood and bones and things that she couldn’t even name.

The Illidari was going to bleed out to death.

“If I cauterize it, will the healers be able to put your wing back?” she asked softly, watching with her heart breaking when Ilana simply blinked and shook her head.

Lidya couldn’t tell how she knew that, but Ilana’s demon was close to the surface, and things could only get worse if she lost control even for a second.

“We need to move,” she added, even softer, feeling the invisibility spell starting to fade out.

Ilana was still clutching her glaives, but she went pliant in Lidya’s arms when the archmage wrapped them around her waist and pulled her up, thankful for the large shield serving as counter weight on her back.

She had no idea where to go – the closest teleportation pad to the Vindicaar was too far away and no one had managed to teleport through the dizzling energy of fel permeating absolutely everything. They had stopped and hidden in a small cave, earlier that day, and it was their best bet, but unless someone came looking for them, they’d probably die in a day or two.

Still, she dragged Ilana after her, never letting her go, even when a dozen of imps attacked them.

Lidya couldn’t lose her best friend. Not now, not ever.

  


  


***

  


  


Ilana had started shaking uncontrollably about twenty minutes ago, and she still wouldn’t speak or react to anything Lidya said to her, only blinking, and sometimes moving her head to nod or shake it. The puddle of blood she was laying in was growing, already too big, and Lidya was convinced that it was only the demonic part of her that was still keeping her alive.

That, and maybe her stubbornness.

They had both been staying in the cave long enough that people in the Vindicaar _had_ to know by now that things had gone sideways. Hopefully, someone was already looking for them – and if they were _really_ lucky, this person would realize that waves and waves of demons were coming to this little cave, and they would come investigate.

Lidya hoped it would happen sooner rather than later. She was growing tired and her mana wasn’t infinite. Constantly keeping up a thick blizzard to freeze everything in place was slowly draining her energy, and it was already hard enough to stay focused on that instead of her slowly dying best friend.

“Loramus...” murmured Ilana after a while, and Lidya, who was frowning, only spared her a quick glance while wiping her forehead with the back of her hand before she was looking at the new wave of imps running to them.

“What is it?”

“I can’t die… Loramus.”

“I know,” she sighed, heart sinking and tears suddenly appearing in her eyes.

She had gone to such length to find a way to hopefully save him – and had _succeeded_. She didn’t think she would ever forget the look on Ilana’s face when Loramus had appeared before them in his real form, his former demonic form gone for good, or the way she had smiled when Lidya had teleported them away to her farm so they could spend some time together, just the two of them, away from everything.

“There’s something that I need to tell you,” she said, swallowing around the knot in her throat, sending another quick glance at Ilana, who was paler than ever and shaking even worse.

“Hm?”

Ilana’s voice was too low, sounding more like a demon’s than hers, but Lidya _couldn’t_ think about it, about what would happen if she lost it, what she would have to do.

“Varian and I got married, right after we got out of the Tomb. We really didn’t plan this, so my only witness was Draerin, because he was the only person I could think of in the moment, but I now wish that you could have been here, by my side.”

Ilana murmured something that vaguely sounded like congratulations in Darnassian, and Lidya risked another look at her, to see her skin suddenly a lot darker, scales on her cheekbones and talons instead of her usually sharp nails.

She was slowly but surely losing control of her demon.

“Ilana!” called Lidya, stopping her cast just for a moment, turning her back to the entrance of the cave and the demons trying to get in so she could fully look at her. “Ilana, please, you need to focus.”

Ilana grunted, her good wing shivering.

“Ilana, _please_ , I can’t lose you too.”

She grunted again, this time lower, longer, _meaner_ , and finally looked up at Lidya – and the archmage _knew_.

She had just lost her to the demon.

“Don’t make me do this,” she whispered, already raising an ice barrier around her, right in time to receive a fel ball in the back from an imp that had gotten inside the cave. It should have worried her, to have so many enemies at her back, but with Ilana looking at her like she was going to tear her heart out and eat it, she couldn’t really worry about anything other than her best friend.

She watched, ice barrier shuddering each time an imp attacked her, as Ilana struggled to get on all fours, breath a heavy pant, her bad wing hanging limply on the ground, still bleeding heavily.

She watched, and sent a silent prayer to the Light. There was no way she was doing anything to Ilana – and there was no way she wasn’t respecting her promise to Varian.

No matter what, she would get out of this cave and back on the Vindicaar with her best friend alive.

An imp lost its patience and jumped on her with enough force that Lidya, who really should have paid attention to them, fell on her knees on the floor, out of breath just for a second as her ice barrier shattered, but apparently long enough for Ilana’s demon to jump on her too, tackling her to the ground and grabbing the imp, biting its head straight off.

Lidya watched with round eyes, the demon hunter so heavy she could barely breathe. The demon was sneering down at her, blood on her teeth, fully transformed now, laying on Lidya in a way that should have scared her a lot more than it was. Call her naive, but the archmage hoped that somewhere deep down, Ilana was still here and would prevent the demon from killing her.

“So delicious,” murmured Ilana’s demon, breath hot against the human’s cheek, before grabbing the next imp that tried to jump on them and biting its head off too, splashing blood everywhere – but mostly on Lidya.

This close, the only thing Lidya could do was watch as the demon ate the imp, looking absolutely delighted, and shiver at the sounds and visuals. She had demon blood absolutely everywhere, and it was itching her skin – she’d have crazy rashes for _weeks_ if she survived.

“Help me save Ilana,” she said once the imp had been eaten and Ilana’s demon was looking over her shoulder at the other imps scattered around the cave, waiting to attack. The demon looked back down at her, green empty eyes squinting for a second. “You won’t survive long without her, will you?”

“I’d rather die than stay enslaved by this whore,” spat the demon, before opening its mouth and bringing it closer to Lidya’s neck.

She shimmered away on instinct, and the demon groaned when it bit at nothing, already getting back on all fours to jump on Lidya again, but the archmage had a plan now – a shitty one, but it was better than nothing.

She threw an ice lance at the demon just to see it groan in rage, before shimmering away again, this time out of the cave, and she smiled when she heard the demon follow her and tear through the imps. If she was lucky, an almost teared-out wing would be enough to slow the demon down so it didn’t catch up to her.

If she wasn’t lucky, well… She’d have to fight an enraged demon with her fists, and she doubted her chances of survival.

So she ran, paying absolutely no attention to what was happening around her – to the other demons who immediately zero-inned on her, the fel splashing her boots or the loud grunts coming from Ilana behind her. It was stupid, to just start running like that in the middle of enemy territory, but no one was going after her or throwing her spells yet – or at least she hadn’t been touched – and anything was better than staying in a small cave with Ilana’s demon trying to bite her head off.

She ran, until her throat burned, until she couldn’t breathe anymore, until her legs hurt – until something heavy crashed into her back, making her fall face first on the ashy ground.

Ilana’s demon hissed against her ear and didn’t lose any time biting at her neck, making Lidya scream in pain and reflexively throw a cone of cold behind her, which thankfully hit her target as the demon rolled away from her, hissing louder, dark red blood running down her chin.

Lidya blinked, feeling dizzy and nauseous, left side of her chest already soaked in her own blood, and she almost threw up when it hit her that something vital had been touched. She closed her eyes when the demon hissed again, this time throwing a “You stupid bitch!” in, and thought about how close she had been to the Vindiccar. Close enough that she could see it in the sky.

Close enough that the next hiss sounded a lot different from the others, and when Lidya opened her eyes to look, Ilana’s demon was being pinned on the ground by another enraged demon hunter in his demonic form.

 _Loramus_ , she thought with a smile, hope flaring in her chest.

Ilana’s demon hissed louder, but Loramus replied by shouting something in demonic, which immediately had the demon flinch away, and Lidya watched with confusion as Ilana’s skin turned pale again, the scales on her face disappearing, her entire body growing smaller as she came back into her own skin, good wing even disappearing.

Loramus cupped her face between his palms, still in his demonic form, and murmured something that Lidya couldn’t hear, before he was getting up, grabbing his wife bridal style, and turning to face her.

“I don’t think I can carry the two of you,” he said, voice a lot lower than usual, making her shiver.

“I don’t think I can walk,” she replied, still trying though, holding onto his arm to stay more or less upright, blood still flowing down her shoulder and chest, knowing that she only had a few minutes at best to get to a healer.

Loramus didn’t say anything, but he looked in an even sourer mood than usual, which said a lot – but then again, his wife was unmoving and pale in his arms, barely breathing and still bleeding. He walked quickly, and Lidya trailed after him as fast as she could, managing to only fall on her knees once the teleportation pad to the Vindicaar was visible.

Thankfully, by then several people had already seen them and were coming to help.

They arrived to the Vindicaar under shocked gasps, and Lidya was laid out on the floor as Loramus was gently putting Ilana down right next to her, and the archmage couldn’t resist, she reached out to grab her best friend’s hand, refusing to let go even as the healers started fussing over the both of them, keeping her eyes firmly turned on the elf’s pale face.

Most demon hunters had come to stand or sit around them, speaking in hushed tones in Demonic, and Lidya didn’t really think when she asked in Thalassian whether her wing could be fixed or not.

“We’ll make sure it gets fixed,” replied Allari, who was kneeling near her head, “and you know Ilana, one broken wing won’t stop her.”

“No it won’t,” replied Kayn, who was holding Ilana’s other hand.

Lidya blinked up at him. He looked pale too, his lips a tight worried line, entire body tensed, and Lidya distantly thought that Ilana was his best friend too. That he had known her for much longer.

 _He’s the first Illidari I trusted with my life_ , she had once told her, after explaining what had happened with Varedis, how he had come back to life, with as little details as possible.

 _You’re the only person I trust with my life apart from Khadgar and Draerin_ , had replied Lidya, because it was true. She hadn’t added that she actually trusted Ilana more than Khadgar, how fighting by her side everyday was an honor. She hadn’t even regretted dying by her side — quite the contrary, going out protecting her had been the only thing Lidya had been proud of after this whole debacle on the Broken Shore.

 _I owe you my life_ , Ilana had told her after Loramus had been separated from Razelikh.

She probably didn’t know that Lidya owed her just as much — not that it was her fault. After all, how did you tell someone that if it weren’t for their strong presence by your side, you would have probably stopped fighting and let the horrors of this world take you a long time ago.

After all the shit in Draenor, Lidya wouldn’t have made it out of the Nightmare without Ilana by her side.

A sob escaped her, and she held Ilana’s hand tighter.

  


  


***

  


  


Balan had told her a little about Argus. He had talked about the lush plains and the colorful flowers, and it was a little crazy to think that after all this time and destruction, some of it was still here, that Lidya could actually witness it with her own eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” whispered Ilana.

Lidya turned her head to look at her.

The Illidari was standing tall and proud, like always, seemingly over her almost death, and Lidya couldn’t help but feel taken aback every time she saw her and found something very close to happiness on her face.

“Don’t you see?” Ilana had told her the night before, when she had finally asked why she looked so happy. “We’re getting close, I can feel it in my bones. The Legion is over, it’s only a question of days. We’ll soon have fulfilled our goal.”

“What will you do then?” she had asked, having asked herself that question when the thought that they just might actually win had crossed her mind those past few weeks after every win.

Ilana had shrugged a shoulder but smiled so freely, it had made Lidya’s heart stutter in happiness for her.

“I’ll make myself a home somewhere and spend time with my husband. I’ll rest,” she had put a hand on Lidya’s shoulder then, had squeezed it comfortingly, her smile growing bigger, “and so will you. I feel hope for the first time in a long time, and I know it’s been hard for you, but I truly believe you’ll get your happy ending, because you deserve it.”

“Where is this even coming from?” had asked Lidya after a small stunned silence, chuckling in an effort to hide the tears in her eyes — although, judging from Ilana’s eye roll the effort was vain.

“Losing control of my demon brought a lot of things to light. I spoke at length with Illidan,” she said, only smiling when Lidya made a surprised face at the lack of title used for the Illidari master. “We came to an agreement, we both know what to expect from each other and what to do, once we’re done here.”

Lidya had nodded without saying anything, a strange pinching in her chest, feeling more lost than ever.

She still had this pinch, as she looked over the plains of Mac Aree. It felt strange, to be so close to ending the Legion, after all this time spent fighting. She had never felt quite like it — not after defeating the Lich King, nor the black dragons or even the Shas of Pandaria.

It wasn’t that she feared being useless with such a big threat out of the equation, per se, but she had no idea what to do with herself outside of fighting.

She had a husband now, though, and not one that would ever have a quiet and calm life, but they hadn’t exactly talked about it before getting married, and she couldn’t stop asking herself what the end of this war would mean for her and her relationship with Varian now. He would love her whether she was fighting or not – she knew that without a single doubt after having caught a look at his feelings for her during the ceremony – but she didn’t know if she’d love herself if she wasn’t a fighter.

The Tiragarde would come to an end, once this was all over, and going back to Dalaran wasn’t in her plans. She was to stay in Stormwind, that much she was certain of.

Maybe she’d just enjoy a quiet life as a noble woman — although she knew without even having to think about it that it was just a stupid lie she was telling herself.

In fact, if she was honest with herself she’d probably end up like Draerin, living a little away from civilization but not too far, practicing experimental magic and trying to come up with new spells without making herself explode or implode.

She’d stayed with Varian for however long he wanted her, and she’d still have her friends, but it felt like something was missing. Something important, that made the picture in her head incomplete.

“I’ve fought for so long, I don’t think I know who I am outside of a war,” she admitted after a while, eyes still on Ilana.

The elf looked down into her eyes, her eyes smiling sympathetically even though her mouth was still a hard serious line.

“Me neither, but I guess it’s a process. Loramus said we should welcome it like a new training, when I talked with him about it.”

“Loramus is too poetic for an Illidari.”

“True, but he’s also always been right about everything for as long as I’ve known him, and I’d like to think that we will get our happy ending, after all this suffering, all of us.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Lidya still felt the need to ask.

Ilana actually thought about it for a moment.

“You know that my only motivation, going through the process of becoming an Illidari, was to get to Loramus, right?” Lidya nodded. “Well, I still had to listen to whatever was said to me then, and there was this one thing Varedis always focused on, while we were practicing our new found magic.”

She turned to look at the horizon, a distant look in her burnt-out eyes, and for a second Lidya’s breath got stuck in her throat when she realized that this gorgeous and powerful and incredibly old elf was her best friend.

“He always told us to keep an eye on the end goal. That no matter how burning our hatred, how thirsty for blood we were, it wasn’t why we were doing this. The Illidari were born to fight the Legion not to avenge all of its victims, but to make sure that no one else had to suffer from them. The main goal is to put an end to them so no one else has to lose their life or fight trying to protect it. We’re far from perfect, a lot of terrible things were caused because of us and most of my brothers and sisters payed the price for that at the Black Temple, but ultimately we’re here for one good reason, and once our goal is attained, we can all go back to doing whatever we want.”

“None of you can go back to your former life.”

“No,” smiled Ilana, “and I don’t think any of us wants to. We’ve all changed, we’ve all seen traumatic things, things that make it impossible for us to ever mingle back with non-Illidari, but at least we still have each other, and we all still remember why we did it in the first place.”

She then turned back to Lidya, gaze hard.

“Why did you get into this life in the first place?” she asked, the question seeming to echo around them and around Lidya’s empty chest.

She did know the answer to that question.

“I started because I had nothing else to turn to. I was desperate, broke and homeless, so I was ready to follow people in the absolute worst place of Azeroth, on the very slim chance that we’d survive. But it’s not why I continued.”

It all came back to her, right then. She remembered the desperation vanishing, replaced by her love for Balan, and Anaar. They had welcomed her into their family, had made her one of them, and she hadn’t felt so desperate and alone anymore.

She had had a chance at stopping her career as an adventurer, right then and there, but she hadn’t taken that path.

“I continued because after all I had seen and done, I couldn’t just sit back while others needed my help.”

“Well,” said Ilana, clasping her shoulder. “There you go. This is who you are, war or not.”

“I still wanted to stop, though. I would have stayed on Draenor and lead a quiet life there if it wasn’t for…”

She stopped, swallowing down the strange lump in her throat — but it simply slid down to her stomach, where it settled heavily.

“I saved Varian,” she said, softly, letting the breeze take her words and do whatever with them. “I saved him, I just couldn’t help myself, and then Khadgar asked for me in Dalaran, and after helping him teleport the city I just couldn’t leave.”

“Why?”

“We almost lost everything when we almost lost Varian. I couldn’t let the world come to that.”

 _Protect him_. It was simple enough, as far as life missions went, and it would probably be enough to keep her more than happy and busy for the rest of her life time.

Protect him, and make sure he was happy.

She smiled.

“I think… I think you could be right. Things might end up okay for all of us.”

“It’s Loramus who said that, and he’s always right,” replied Ilana.

Lidya hummed and they both fell back into their quiet contemplation of Mac Aree.

  


  


***

  


  


_Okay_ might have been an exaggeration. Things were not bad _at best_ and if you were feeling generous, and Lidya couldn’t help but flinch when Kayn yelled something in Demonic and was forcefully pulled back by both Loramus and Varedis.

Allari was standing next to them, apparently stunned, her eyes still turned to where Illidan had been standing only a second before.

The Illidari were the only source of noise in the entire Vindicaar it seemed, not that Lidya really noticed.

She was petrified, the adrenaline finally rushing out of her system, leaving her with weak knees and a slight tremor in every single one of her limbs.

She blinked and looked around the room, haggard. All the people she could see were the only survivors. It was all over now, and they were the only survivor.

A violent shiver ran through her body, and not a second later Draerin was at her side, his arms around her shoulders as she melted against him, feeling like a child needing parental reassurance.

Fighting her way through Antorus had been terrible, but seeing Sargeras with her own two eyes… it was burned into her memory and would never leave her, she was certain of that.

“He has to come!” Kayn was still yelling, having switched to Thalassian. “He can’t stay there! He _has_ to go back with us!”

Ilana closed her eyes and looked away from the yelling blood elf, resignation painted all over her face, and Lidya realized with a sinking heart that this was what she had meant when she had said that Illidan and her had talked. He had never planned on going back to Azeroth.

Lidya closed her eyes too, stomach twisting as her mind replayed the giant sword stabbing Azeroth. They were still too far away to know for sure where it had hit, but it was certain that everything and everyone around the impact had died.

The archmage could have cried just thinking about it. To think that they had succeeded, against all hope, only for Azeroth to take such a blow… She wrapped her arms around Draerin’s waist and held him tight.

“Shhh,” he murmured against her ear, although she could feel the tremor going through his own body, hear the held back tears in his voice. “We won and everyone we love and care about is doing okay.”

It was easy to say for him, with Khadgar well and alive on the other side of the Vindicaar, throwing him burning gazes every two seconds, but Lidya knew he wasn’t trying to be malicious, quite the contrary, and forced herself not to burst into sobs instead of replying and lashing out at her mentor.

  


  


***

  


  


It took them a few days to join Azeroth, and their stop was made in Silithus, were everyone got off the Vindicaar and just stood there, looking at the giant sword shooting up to the sky, so high that they couldn’t see the hilt under the clouds.

No one was speaking, or moving. It felt like a dream, and Lidya wondered for all of a second whether it might be one — maybe she’d wake up on Argus in a second, and someone would tell her that they were ready to attack Antorus.

It was unlikely, but a girl could always dream.

“Alright,” said Khadgar after a long while. “Who’s ready to get home?” he asked, already casting a portal to Dalaran, but still Lidya didn’t move.

In fact, she only started moving after half of the people had left and Draerin had started to push her in the direction of a portal to Stormwind.

“Someone’s probably worried sick about you right now,” he muttered, pushing her harder. “Go make the best out of being alive and stop thinking about anything important for a few days, it’ll do you a lot of good.”

“I can’t just turn my brain off,” she protested, but she was already halfway to Stormwind and she knew he wouldn’t follow her.

She arrived at the gates of Stormwind, where most of the Alliance members that had gone to Argus, minus the death knights and Illidari, were already, being celebrated by a lot of guards and a crowd of happy citizens.

Lidya’s eyes naturally fell on Varian as soon as she arrived. He was pretty far away, in his gleaming armor, eyes anxiously scanning the crowd — no doubt looking for her. _Light_ , she thought as she watched Anduin look at her and elbow his father, pointing at her with his chin. Varian’s entire body seemed to melt under the relief when his eyes fell on her and he started pushing his way through the dense and growing crowd. _I’d do anything for him. Anything._

She started walking in his direction too, pushing people away when they wouldn’t bulge, not caring one bit and starting to feel alive for the first time since her eyes had first fallen on Varimathras, what suddenly seemed like two eternities ago.

“Lidya,” she heard, right before being engulfed into a bone-crushing hug that she welcomed by holding Varian back just as tight.

She closed her eyes, pressed her nose against his throat and just breathed him in for a second, tears burning at the back of her eyelids, feeling overwhelmed by her love for him all of the sudden.

“Thank the Light,” Varian was whispering against the crown of her head, one of his hand gently cradling the back of said head, fingers in her hair. “Everyday I prayed for you to come back.”

“I’m never not coming back to you,” she said, meaning every word. “I love you so much Varian, I love you.”

He leaned back just for a second, to meet her eyes, before he was leaning down and gently kissing her, with all the love in the world, and Lidya let go of him to cup his face between her hands — holding her whole world — and kiss him back, wishing for this moment to stretch forever.

She was home, in his arms, and it was the only thing that mattered to her now.


End file.
